


M is for Magical Strike

by Zeplerfer



Series: Alphabet Smut [10]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dark Magic, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Control, Mutual Masturbation, USUK - Freeform, dominant America
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:58:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18252185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeplerfer/pseuds/Zeplerfer
Summary: In 1960s Manhattan, Arthur creates a new marketing campaign to sell ‘Magical Strike’ cigarettes using a blond hunk in a striking black-and-purple outfit. But Arthur and his muse share a dangerous secret…





	M is for Magical Strike

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for dubious consent, dark themes, and some spoken and internalized homophobia.

The secretaries had already left for the evening by the time Arthur returned to his spacious, corner office. He stepped inside, loosened his tie, and tossed it onto the sofa with a weary sigh. The dusk of twilight filtered through the blinds and cast the room in muted blue. As Arthur turned to walk over to his bar cart, he glanced at the dark figure waiting for him behind the desk.

The figure took a drag from his cigarette and blew out a slow puff of smoke. He casually moved the cigarette back and forth from his lips, drawing attention to the most distinctive feature of ‘Magical Strike’ cigarettes—instead of a flash of ember orange, the butt glowed purple when lit.

Without taking his eyes off his guest, Arthur made his way to the bar cart. “Care for a martini, my good sir?” he asked like a proper host.

“You know I prefer Manhattans,” the man replied in a rich, throaty voice. "And I've told you to call me Alfred."

“I'll grant you one of those requests,” Arthur retorted as he mixed a Manhattan, poured it into a cocktail glass, and topped the drink with a cherry. For himself, he added gin and vermouth into his cocktail shaker. He poured the resulting mixture—shaken, not stirred—into his martini glass and garnished it with an olive. Arthur carried the two drinks, one in each hand, over to his desk, and gave his presumptuous guest a jaundiced look. “But I’m not serving you your drink until you vacate my chair.”

Alfred chuckled and stood up. He cut an imposing figure, towering above Arthur’s head. In the dusky twilight, it was hard to make out the color of his hair, but Arthur knew it was spun gold except for a few strands of purple fringe swept roguishly to the side of his face. The purple theme continued with a purple star painted on the man’s cheek and a matching purple dress shirt. Alfred had the top few buttons undone, exposing a smooth, muscular chest. Completing the ensemble was an extravagant black jacket with a feathery black collar that resembled a lion’s mane. His face was the inspiration for the ‘Magical Strikes’ cigarette advertising campaign that was sure to become Arthur’s most impressive marketing creation.

“You’re such a cruel master,” Alfred teased as he accepted the cocktail from Arthur’s hand. Their fingers brushed and Arthur felt the tingle of electricity spread through his skin.

“I sell cigarettes for a living. Cruelty is the name of the game,” Arthur countered as he unflinchingly held the other man’s gaze.

“I know. That’s what I like about you.” Alfred casually sat down on top of Arthur’s desk and scattered a few papers and designs to the floor. He downed his drink in a single gulp and set the empty glass on the desk next to him. With his other hand, he continued smoking his cigarette. “Was your meeting successful?”

"You already know the answer to that."

Alfred smiled. "I do. But I'd like to hear it from you."

Arthur plopped into his chair with a weary sigh and sipped his martini before responding. “It took a while, but I was able to convince them eventually. I just had to show them that the real growth market is in appealing to women.” He half-smiled to himself. “Give bored housewives the fantasy of a tall, dark, dangerous man and they won’t care what the Surgeon General says.”

“There are a lot of people who enjoy the fantasy of a tall, dark, dangerous man,” Alfred replied in a deep voice as he leaned forward and smiled seductively at Arthur. His breath smelled like smoke and his eyes glimmered with a faint purple light.

“Mmm,” Arthur agreed as he took another sip of his martini. His heart raced in anticipation of what he knew would come next. Each time Arthur told himself it would be the last, but he never found the willpower to refuse.

Alfred smirked back at Arthur like he knew exactly what he was picturing in the dark recesses of his mind. "Would you like a massage, master?” he offered with feigned innocence. 

“Oh, God, yes,” Arthur breathed. Before he could say anything else, Alfred had swiveled Arthur's chair around and was gripping Arthur’s shoulders. His fingers worked like magic, stretching and grasping until Arthur felt his back turn into putty. As Alfred continued the deep tissue massage, the sound of whispers flitted through the back of Arthur’s mind. Moments later, the whispers went silent, and left Arthur a relaxed passenger in his own body. He could still feel every pleasant sensation racing through his veins, but he was no longer the one controlling his limbs.

Alfred spun Arthur around in his chair again until they were facing each other. "Give me your drink," he commanded and Arthur instantly lifted up his arm and handed over his martini. Alfred drank it with a smug look. Once he finished, he set the empty glass on the table next to the other one. “Don't worry, I have something for you, too,” he said as he unzipped his trousers. He grinned and pulled out a hardening cock. "Give it a good rub."

Arthur's heart raced as his hands followed orders. He reached out and stroked the cock until it was completely hard. While Arthur jerked off the other man, his own pants grew tight. All Arthur could think about was his lust and desire as his cock throbbed and he moaned with need.

Alfred chuckled. "Don't worry, master. I know what you want." He gently removed Arthur's hands from his cock and climbed off the desk. Alfred pulled up the window blinds on Arthur's floor-to-ceiling windows. Outside, the lights of Madison avenue office buildings sparkled like the stars in the sky. Alfred leaned with his back against the window and chuckled. "Now rub one out for yourself," he directed.

Limbs moving without conscious thought, Arthur unbuckled his belt, unzipped his trousers, and released his cock into the cool evening air. He palmed himself and began jerking off as he stared intently at Alfred, eyes roaming across the other man's handsome face and his tall, muscular body. Arthur's eyes dropped to Alfred's cock and he stared hungrily as Alfred began pleasuring himself. Their pants and moans and the sounds of rubbing flesh were the only noises in the otherwise silent office. Arthur eagerly watched Alfred orgasm, then he moaned and arched back in his chair as he came into his own hand.

"Sinfully good, isn't it?" Alfred teased as he licked his own cum from his fingers. "But not as good as what comes next. Get up," he directed, pointing toward the window of Arthur's sixth-floor office.

Arthur stood up and walked forward. He pressed his hands against the window and assumed a spread-eagle position as he stared at the traffic lights far below. Within moments, his hot breath had fogged up the glass.

Alfred stepped behind Arthur and, using just one hand, removed Arthur’s belt with an ease born of practice. He tugged Arthur's trousers down to his knees. A second later, he slipped a hand around Arthur's waist and began jerking off Arthur’s half-hard cock. With his other hand, he took another drag of his cigarette. 

“ _Nnngh_ ,” Arthur moaned with need. He wantonly rutted against Alfred's hand.

Alfred molded his body against Arthur's, pressing Arthur up against the window as he whispered seductively into Arthur’s ear, “The easiest way into your mind, and you leave it wide open every time. You would think a mage like you would learn better...”

Arthur's eyes closed as his forehead slumped against the cool glass. With the heat flooding his body, it was like he was burning up inside. He felt warmth and pleasure and his nostrils filled with the scent of cigarette smoke. Arthur's thoughts focused on the smoke and his nostrils flared. In a flash of anger, he burned away the dark tendrils controlling his mind. “Put that away this instant!” he cried furiously, glaring at Alfred over his shoulder.

“Ugh, so demanding,” Alfred complained. "Don't flip your wig." He let go of Arthur's cock and grumbled to himself as he placed the cigarette in an ashtray on the coffee table. He returned a second later and resumed his tender ministration of Arthur’s hardening cock. Within a few strokes, he had easily slipped back into control. His hands brushed against Arthur’s skin as he slipped Arthur’s briefs down his thighs. “Now where were we?” Alfred asked. “Ah, I remember.” He pulled a butt plug out from between Arthur’s pert buttocks. The metallic plug made a dull thunk as he tossed it behind them.

Arthur panted and moaned as Alfred's curious fingers explored his ass. They stretched him and spread around the lube left over from the evening before. Arthur's body flushed with heady desire as his mind remained wonderfully blank.

Alfred pulled out his fingers and replaced them seconds later with hard cock. “Do you know why you don’t resist me?” he asked as he firmly pressed Arthur up against the window. “Because you like to pretend I’m _forcing_ you to do this. That way you can blame it on me, instead of acknowledging the sickness inside yourself. Face it, Arthur, you’re a degenerate and you love it.”

The man's words barely penetrated Arthur's consciousness; his body was too overwhelmed with the delirious sensations emanating from the thick cock penetrating his ass.  Arthur gasped for breath each time Alfred thrust inward. With every thrust, a wave of pleasure rolled through Arthur’s body until they crested into a tidal wave of bliss. Arthur’s own, hard cock pressed against the window as he panted heavily. He gasped and came on the glass. “Alfred, Alfred!” he cried.

Alfred pulled out and Arthur found himself unthinkingly turning around, kneeling down, and taking Alfred's hard cock into his mouth. He grasped the shaft and sucked on the salty skin until sticky warmth creamed down his throat. Arthur swallowed in a haze of warm contentment.

“You wish I were him.” Alfred chuckled as he zipped up his trousers and stepped away. He walked over to the bar cart and made himself another Manhattan. “The CEO’s son is such a golden boy. Of course, Alfred Jones isn't a pervert like you. He likes women. That's why he married one."

Feeling like he had been splashed with a shock of cold water, Arthur nearly slumped forward as he found himself suddenly in control again of his arms and legs. He wobbled to his feet and collapsed on the sofa. He glared at the other man. “God, you’re such an asshole.”

The man smirked. “Am I? I offer what people want and they choose it of their own accord.” He gestured toward his face. “You and I both know it's easy when you offer the right image."

"You can leave now, you've had your fun for the night," Arthur snapped.

"Master, I'm hurt," the man replied with feigned innocence. "I'm giving you _exactly_ what you wanted when you summoned me. We'll both get what we want out of this deal."

"This isn't what I wanted." Arthur glanced around the room. "You've stolen my drink, disheveled my clothes, and made a mess in my office."

"My apologies." The man snapped his fingers and put everything back to rights. The cum disappeared and the windows were left sparkling clean. Wrinkles disappeared from Arthur's clothes as his briefs and trousers reappeared around his waist. A fresh martini—shaken, not stirred—popped into existence in Arthur's hand.

Arthur stared at it dully and took a sip. "That will be all for tonight, Alfred," he replied.

“Very well, master.” The man disappeared in a flash of smoke, leaving behind only his Magical Strike cigarette as it slowly burned into a pile of purple ash.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember kids, smoking is bad. And so is summoning demons!
> 
> If this ending is too depressing, feel free to imagine Arthur realizing that marketing cigarettes is terrible, leaving his job, and going to work for an anti-tobacco group. He gets unexpected help from Alfred Jones, the CEO's son, and eventually learns that Alfred is in a loveless marriage. They run away together to San Francisco and live happily ever after.


End file.
